Disclaimer – I don't own X-Men: Evolution
Rogue sat on the roof of the institute, on a small flat slanting spot located above her window. Her white fringes were in her face, but she made no movement to brush them out of sight. Her eyes showed no emotion, her face did not hold any expression; no smile or frown was planted on her pink lips. Make up did not touch her delicate face for once; no earrings were pierced into the flesh of her ear. She wore her green and orange colored pajamas, for she was supposed to be asleep; it was well after three in the morning.
Guess I should be going back in now. She decided to herself as she gradually, and gingerly, slipped down off the roof and onto the balcony that led into her room. The second she stepped into her dark room, she was greeted by two red orbs that seemed to float in the obscurity of the room. The female Southerner tensed up when she felt familiar hands rest themselves on each side of her hips.
"What's wrong chére?" Rogue could feel Remy's warm breath on her neck as he spoke. The feeling sent chills down her spine but she still remained tense. "Not happy t' see me?" He asked, softly kissing her neck. "The Professor told me you agreed t' go t' England." His eyes met hers. "Told me not t' interfere wit' your choice."
"Your cheek." She reached up and gently touched his cheek. She placed her palm on the side of his jaw and stroked the cut that was held together for a perfect heal by butterfly stitches. "I'm sorry, Sugah."
"Don't worry about it." One hand left the side of her hip and trailed up, placing itself on her cheek. The other hand remained where it was placed and gave her side a tight squeeze. "Seems like the world is against us."
"Or just the Prof." Rogue said, making a face. "I think he's always been against us."
"Think now would be a good time t' tell 'im we're married?" Even in the darkness of the room, Rogue could sense the smirk that found its way on Remy's face.
"Now?" She asked, her voice no higher than a whisper. "It's after three in the mornin'." Not only was it an excuse, but she did have a point!
Remy said nothing as he broke away from her and turned on a light. "It's good t' see your genuine lip color." He teased after seeing her face.
"It's good to see you actually shaved." She itched the flesh below her bottom lip. "But darlin' you missed a place."
"As if that's not the first time you said that t' me." He stated, giving her a look. Suddenly, he sprung forward pushing her down on her bed. Her eyes went wide when she felt his hands leading in under her shirt. "You still ticklish?" He asked, smirking down evilly at her as he used the forbidden word.
"No!" She gasped as his fingers ran back and forth, across her sensitive skin. "Stop! Remy Lebeau!" Laughter escaped from her, and soon enough her face was flushed.
"What's going on in here?" Both were startled when a sleepy Scott barged into the room to see Remy nearly on top of Rogue, with his hands up her shirt. "You know what? Screw it. I don't want to know." He turned around and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Remy looked down at Rogue and at the same time, they cracked up. After the laughter died which was just seconds later, Rogue cleared her throat.
"Do ya mind removin' your hands?" She asked softly, but he just smirked down at her.
"They be nice an' warm in here." But, since he was a gentleman, he removed his hands slowly.
"Oh my god." Rogue mumbled seconds later. She covered up her face with her hands and groaned. "I don't want to leave you." She hated reality.
"I wouldn't want t' leave me either."
"If I wasn't so tired an' exhausted, I'd hit you fo' that comment." She felt him lean in and kiss her forehead.
"Just get some sleep.. Mon amour."
After receiving only a few simple hours of a restless sleep, both Rogue and Remy didn't look too happy, or fully awake, at breakfast the next morning.
"How did you sleep, luv?" Betsy asked Rogue as she walked into the room, looking fresh and alive. "Did you start packing up your luggage yet?"
"Feh." Rogue mumbled, running a hand through her white fringes.
You're not having second thoughts are you Rogue?
The female Southerner just shrugged and reached for donut. She then absent-mindedly searched around for her cup of morning coffee. She then noticed Remy talking a sip from her coffee.
"What do you think you are doin'?" She asked coldly. He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers and with a gulp, he handed her back her cup of coffee, which actually was his. "Mine." Rogue declared; looking and sounding like a child as she sipped the coffee with both hands clutched around the mug.
He patted the back of her head and yawned. "Oui. Yours."
Betsy stared at the two, smiling down at both of them. How could the Professor want to split them apart? Just as she was about to say something, Rogue had unintentionally cut her off.
"Goddammit!" Now, Rogue's mug of coffee laid on the table, it's contents spilled out over the table.
"What happened?" Betsy asked as she grabbed the paper towels.
"I phased the cup through my hands." Rogue mumbled, taking the paper towels from her. "I'll clean up my own mess."
The British female stared at the Southerner, noticing the sudden mood change in her. Mood swings? Betsy asked herself. She noticed the worried glance on Remy's face as he set a hand on her shoulder. Her emotions and her powers are highly intact. That's not usual but there's something..
"Somethin' wrong?" Rogue suddenly asked, cutting her off as she threw away the damp paper towels.
"No." Betsy stated, studying her. "Nothing is wrong. Was just thinking, you know."
Rogue gave her an understanding nod. "Yes, I know."
"Come in, Elisabeth." Xavier had called before she even knocked on his door. With an eye roll, she entered the office.
"Good mornin' Charles. I believe you already know why I'm here." He was a prying telepath, of course he knew why.
"I do." At least he was a truthful prying telepath. "It's about Rogue, isn't it?"
Well, duh. It's certainly not about how North America is going to hell in a hand basket because Bush is a terrible president.
"Well, actually, Charles, I would like to stay here for a few days. I'd just like to.." She bit down on her lower lip. "Watch Rogue, as you would say. Maybe work with her for a while, and then, if it is needed I can take 'er back home."
"As you wish."
Elisabeth nodded solemnly but waves of guilt passed through her. Why were they treating Rogue like an experiment?
"They won't find us in 'ere." Remy murmured, closing the door to the linen closet.
"Yeah." Rogue mumbled, looking around. "Who would ever look for us in here?"
He picked up a sheet and handed it to her. "C'mon Rogue, let's get some sleep before they do find us."
"There's barely any room in here." Taking a step forward, she slipped on a sheet. Remy's arm encircled around her waist tightly to stop her from falling and making noise.
"I make a good bed." He whispered, pulling her closer to him. She blushed when she glanced at him to be greeted with a wink.
"Oui?" His grip around her tightened as he slowly leaned in.
"We should've stayed at the hotel." He raised a brow, and now looked as if he were trying to figure out exactly what she had meant. She realized that and slapped his arm playfully, or so she thought. "Forget it. I can't be serious with you."
"Why can't you be serious with me?" He asked, deciding whether that was a compliment or an insult. He was going for both, with a side dish of 'uh oh, something bad is gonna happen.'
"It feels weird."
"What feel weird?"
He arched a brow. "Rogue, chére, could you be a tad bit mo' descriptive?"
Rogue just sighed. "Remy, do ya love me?"
Stupid question. The expression on his face was now serious. "Oui.." What was she getting at, he wondered.
"Then would ya come to England with me?"
"I don't think the Professor would like that."
"Screw him. It's my life, Rem. An' you're stuck with me.. death to us part, 'member?"
The Professor shook his head. "I do not recommend it."
"Prof, I'm over eighteen. There ain't nothin' you can do about it. If I want Remy to come, he's comin'."
"I want you to get well."
"You want to break Remy and I apart which ain't goin' to happen unless you somehow manage to divorce us."
He raised his brows. "Divorce you?"
"Yes, divorce. Remy an' I are married. We have been for a while. There's nothin' you can do to split us up."
"Rogue, your mental state needs to get stronger. I don't believe you can accomplish that with Remy around."
"Oh yeah, and going to England is going to make everything better?"
"When you get there, you will receive special—"
"Charles." Betsy walked out from the shadows, her dark purple now tied back in a ponytail. "I would like it if Remy would accompany us." She glanced over at Rogue. "I'd like to talk to him alone, if you don't mind."
Rogue just shrugged and slowly walked towards to the door. "Be my guest."
"He didn't care that we're married?"
"We should start havin' a family. He'll care then, hahn?"
Once again, she shrugged.
He walked up behind her and wrapped his shoulders around her shoulders. "You all right?"
"No. But I will be." She said right as Betsy walked into the room. Her face was emotionless.
"Rogue, Remy. Pack your bags. We leave tomorrow."
I'm leaving it there. I know it wasn't worth the wait, but that's the best I can do. If you didn't like it, then don't review. I'll probably write a small epilogue. As soon as I finish up my other X-M:E fics, I'll work on the sequel. There will be one. I still have a few things to finish.